WR:Steel and Rubber and Little Brothers
by clair beaubien
Summary: Part of my AU Winchester's Rising universe. Sam mentions he's thinking of taking a road trip. Dean's thinking there's only one car Sam should drive. But things don't go the way Dean planned.


A/N: in case you haven't read my Winchesters Rising (WR) universe: it's set at the end of S4. Cas got Dean to the convent in time. The Cage wasn't opened. The Apocalypse never happened. Ruby still died, Lilith still died. On the way from the convent, Dean stopped at Lisa's house and they've been living there for four months now. (Or – you could read the story, too, I guess…)

* * *

The Impala was the only really stable thing in our lives, for our whole lives. When we were lost, she was the shelter. When we were tired, she was the bed. When a hunt, or a date, or a life was over, she was there. She never lied, her feelings never got hurt, if something's ever wrong, she tells me, she doesn't make me guess. She carried Sam and me home from the hospital when we were newborns. She took us to school. For Sammy, lots of times, she _was_ the school, when we were on the road and he was in his books. She went on every hunt with us. She carried us into the danger, but she always carried us back out of the danger again.

She carried us each when we were dead.

Even after all this time out of the hunt, the Impala is _home._

So when Sam made the passing comment one day that he was thinking of taking a road trip somewhere sometime, I knew there was only one car he could take. The Impala.

He hadn't mentioned borrowing her. He was probably thinking of renting some over-priced, under-cool suburban-Mom-style car that was safe and dependable and _lame_. He needed the _Impala_.

I didn't tell him that right away though. I decided to surprise him. Sammy has had little enough _good_ surprises in his life, this one was going to be perfect. I spent a week tuning her up and polishing her 'til she gleamed. New brakes, new tires, and detailed to an inch of her life. There wasn't one other car on the street that she didn't put to shame when I drove her over to Sam's apartment.

It was still early in the morning, just past seven. Sam would probably still be asleep. I pulled into the improvised-out-of-the-tiny-backyard parking lot and let myself in the back way.

Sam's room was part of an old house, a _huge_ old house that was originally built for one family but somewhere along the line got cut up into apartments and rooms for rent. His room was tucked away in what he said maybe used to be servants quarters. It was pretty much just one big room with one tiny bathroom and a kitchen tacked onto one wall like an after-thought. There wasn't even an actual bedroom; just a corner of the big room laid out with his bed and a dresser.

Actually, it was a lot like a motel room, which is maybe why Sammy seemed to like it so much. In its own way, it was familiar. With nearly every other part of our lives unraveling at one end and being stitched up into something new on the other end, even a little bit of same-old same-old was nice.

I let myself into his room, quiet, but even sound asleep, Sam registered that someone had come in uninvited and he was awake in an instant, sitting up with his knife in his hand.

"Dean? What're you doing here?" He tucked the knife back under his pillow and looked at his watch. "What time is it?"

"Time to open your presents time."

"What? Presents? What presents? What are you talking about?"

"Presents for Labor Day."

"Labor Day was over a week ago, Dean." He oh-so snottily informed me. "Besides which - people don't give presents for Labor Day."

I only shrugged.

"You've been laboring, you deserve a present."

Sam eyed me suspiciously.

"Sooo – Lisa threw you out and you got drunk and now you need somewhere to live and you think calling yourself a 'present' will make me let you stay here?"

I let that pass, since it was probably the best Sam could come up with this early in the morning and barely awake yet.

"No, genius. I _got_ you a present. Late-Labor-Day, early-Halloween, whatever-you-want-to-call-it, present."

I held the key out and Sam peered at it suspiciously, like it might suddenly morph into a clown right in his face.

"A car?" My Stanford-full-ride-Little-Brother finally deduced. "You're giving me a _car_?"

"Yeah, I shined her up and everything for you. You gonna come have a look at her or not?"

Sam only stared at me.

"_I don't need a car."_ He said, sounding exactly like a kid who didn't want to take icky medicine.

"Of course you need a car. Everybody needs a car. C'mon, put some clothes on. You can't meet her in your pajamas."

Sam was still giving me the '_you must be a pod person_' look, but he got up and got clean clothes out of his dresser and took them into the tiny bathroom to get changed.

"But Dean -." He kept trying through the half-opened bathroom door. "Everything is within walking distance. The bar, the library, the grocery store. You."

"And you said something last week about wanting to do a road trip, didn't you? Well, you can't road trip without a car."

"Yeah, no, yeah." He came back out of the bathroom and settled his folded pajamas into another dresser drawer. "I just – I was just saying – you know? Just – thinking out loud."

"Yeah, well – careful what you wish for, hunh? C'mon."

"I gotta put my shoes on."

_Siiiiigh._ Sammy always did have more delaying techniques than any kid I ever met.

"All right – shoes on? Here, take the key and let's go." I tossed him the key and led the way out of the room, down the back stairs of the old house. And still, all the way down the stairs, Sam argued with me, giving me all the reasons owning a car didn't make sense for him.

"But - Dean. C'mon. You know we've got _real_ lives now. I'd have to get insurance. I'd have to get it inspected every year. Registration. Parking spaces. I mean - what if it breaks down?"

"Sammy - for crying out loud. Don't worry about it, all right? I got you covered."

We finally stepped outside to where my baby sat, shining and perfect.

"What do you think?" I asked. Though his mouth dropping open in surprise might've been my first clue of what he thought.

"The _Impala_? You want to give me the _Impala_? _Really_?"

"Really." I told him. "I can't have you driving around in just any old car."

"But – but – that's – that's _your_ car. Dad gave it to _you_. I can't take the Impala."

"Sure you can. C'mon, jump in, take me for a spin."

"Dean – c'mon – no. Here." Sam tried to push the key back into my hand. "You really are drunk, aren't you? You have to be. I can't take the Impala."

"Why not? C'mon – you said you wanted to take a road trip. Is there better car to take a road trip in than my baby?"

"No, no there's not. I just - I meant - I didn't -."

Something was up with all the stammering and refusing to make eye contact. He was embarrassed.

"Sam - _what_?"

"I meant – I meant I wanted to take a road trip - with _you_."

And I was so surprised by that answer that when Sam pushed the key back into my hand, I took it.

"_Oh."_

"That's all I meant. We haven't done anything – together – much – in a long time. I just – you and me – that's what I meant."

"Oh." Was all I managed to say again. Man, did I feel like an idiot. Of course he'd been talking about _us _taking a road trip, and I'd completely missed it.

Sam only shrugged.

"So – thanks. I appreciate it. I do. I just – I don't need a car."

I studied the key for a minute. Maybe we couldn't road trip the Grand Canyon on a Saturday morning, but we could drive _somewhere_.

"C'mon, get in. I'll buy you breakfast."

He shrugged a kind of _'ok, yeah, sure'_ shrug and walked around to the passenger side. But as soon as I said -

"There's this little country place Lisa and I found a couple of months ago. It's pretty good."

- he stopped suddenly.

"_Oh." _

He sounded disappointed and he looked - well, disappointed didn't even begin to describe how he looked. I might've said he looked broken-hearted, but over what?

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just - I'm not hungry."

"You were hungry a second ago."

"_Well, I'm not anymore."_

In four months, could I really have forgotten how aggravating my brother could be when he's in one of his moods? First he wants to go on a road trip with me, and in the next breath he _doesn't_ want to go to breakfast with me.

And then I realized.

_Four months. _

I'd been so busy these four months surviving and living and moving forward no matter what, that I'd completely missed the year anniversary of my death. And I was nearly missing the year anniversary of my coming back to life again.

That made a swallow stick in my throat, didn't it?

I had a wonderful woman in my life, a great kid, a good job, a good house. I was living and working and finding restaurants to take Lisa to, and Sam was staring at the stairs that led back up to his one room closet like they were some long lost friend he couldn't wait to be reunited with.

Was giving him the Impala really supposed to make up for everything I had that he didn't?

Was I really that stupid?

"Sam -."

He looked at me but didn't answer me - that was usually his way of waiting, hoping, that I was going to say something different than what I'd just said. But to ask Sam where he'd like to eat breakfast would be admitting that I didn't know his habits anymore. To take him anywhere I'd been would be taking him someplace I'd already taken Lisa, and Sammy was so obviously stinging from suddenly being an 'also ran' in my life.

So, instead of saying anything, I parked my butt on the hood of the car. I can't think of a single time that Sam didn't park himself right next to me anytime I did that, and this time wasn't any different. In less than a minute, he was next to me, arms crossed, shoulders rolled, his soul duct-taped right there on his sleeve.

And then we both sat and waited until one of us thought of something to say.

Only, the only thing I could think of turned to be incredibly stupid.

"You know, my earliest memory of being in this car is getting hot dogs at some roadside stand and dripping ketchup and relish on Dad's seat."

"Did he get mad?"

"No, I told Mom and she - she wiped it up."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away and I wondered if I could eff this day up any worse if I'd been trying on purpose.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I only wanted to make you feel better, and I just keep making it worse."

"_No._ You didn't make anything worse." Sam said. "I know how what the Impala means to you. I know what it means that you'd give her to me. I just – it's just – being in the car without you has never meant anything good."

I couldn't disagree with him there. I felt the exact same way being in the car without Sam. That was probably the biggest reason I never drove her anywhere anymore.

"Anyway," Sam went on. "You need a big car now as much as we ever needed it. All those groceries and lawn care things you need to take care of now." He smiled saying it, trying to be lighthearted, but I wasn't feeling it.

"No. As far as I'm concerned, she's as much a hunter as we are. She took us to every hunt, and brought us back from every hunt. She saved our lives how many times? I don't see her retiring to a life of hauling fertilizer and feminine hygiene products."

Sam gave me a look, but not the _'dude, too much information_' look I was expecting. He smiled again and it was half nostalgic and half broken hearted.

"Maybe that's exactly the kind of retirement she always wanted. Just to be a family car. A _normal_ family car. She was that once, you know? From the time Dad bought her until –"

His chin did that wibble thing and he heaved a breath and dragged his hand over his eyes and didn't finish his thought.

"Tell me again how I'm not making everything worse?" I asked him.

He shook his head and looked away and around and not quite back at me.

"What do you think the most disgusting thing is that ever happened in this car?" He asked.

"You asking that question." I answered. But I knew that he was trying to pull himself back from his emotions, so I played along. "Of course, I know _somebody_ who had his diaper changed a lot in this car. That was usually pretty disgusting."

"Hey, Mom and Dad had this car when you were a baby. I bet you got changed a lot in here too."

I tried to look as though I'd been insulted.

"I was _born_ potty-trained, I'll have you know."

For some reason, that made Sam laugh.

"What?" I had to ask.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "Maybe I'm just tired, but for some reason, hearing you say the word '_potty'_ is funny."

"Laugh it up, Droopy Drawers. You're just lucky I didn't have a camera phone way back then."

"Yeah." Sam laughed a little more. "Hey, you think Mom and Dad ever made out in the car?"

That thought took me so much by surprise that if I'd been drinking something right at that moment, I would've been choking my lungs out.

"Oh, man – okay, that really _is_ a disgusting thought. Thank you for bringing that up. I can seriously never drive this car again, thank you."

"I'm just saying –"

"_AAH–" _I tried to shush him. I didn't want to hear anything he was saying on that subject.

" – they were young and in love –"

" _NO – "_

" - maybe we were conceived –"

"_STOP RIGHT THERE."_ I ordered him. "_Not one more word."_

He stopped, but he grinned, and I waited a minute to be sure he was done on that subject. Apparently he was.

"So – you really don't want the car, hunh?"

"No. To borrow sometimes, maybe. But not to keep. Not to be responsible for. Not to _own_. That would feel too much like – like –"

"Too much like I was waving goodbye?" I ventured a guess. Sam looked like he was going to dispute me, but then he nodded.

"I know that you're not, I know that's not what you meant but – yeah. And last year's not so far away yet that being in the car without you wouldn't kill me." He shrugged. It was a weary movement. "But you know – I'm happy that you're happy with Lisa and Ben. And you _are_ happy, I can tell. You're happy and busy and fulfilled and I would never not be happy for you. You deserve a good life. You deserve that and more."

"So do you." I told him. "You deserve to be happy, too."

He thought about it.

"I am happy." He finally decided. "As happy as I can be, considering everything that's happened these last few years. Especially this past year and a half. It'll take a while but – really, I'm okay, Dean. I am."

I looked at him a minute, gauging his answer. He was telling me truth.

"All right. But anytime you _ever_ need a car, for _whatever_ reason, it's the Impala or _nothing_, you got that?"

"I got it." He said, and grinned again when he said it. "So - you wanna maybe hit a drive thru breakfast? Park down by the river?"

"Sounds good. You wanna - ?"

I held the car key out to him. He looked at it at first like it might bite him, but he took the key and jumped off the car and got behind the wheel before I'd even stood up. I slid off the hood and let my hand slide over the polished surface as I walked to the passenger door.

I had Lisa now, I had a home with Lisa and Ben, and I was pretty sure that it was looking to be a permanent arrangement. But I still had _this_ home, made out of steel and rubber and –

"_Driver picks the music!" _Sam announced to me, from the front seat.

and Little Brothers.

I would _always_ have this home.

The end


End file.
